


Not Quite Waltzing

by QueerGirlTakeover



Series: CreampuffWeek [4]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: CreampuffWeek, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerGirlTakeover/pseuds/QueerGirlTakeover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little alcohol, a little dancing, and a little confession.</p><p>Written for Creampuffweek<br/>Prompt #4 - Blame it on the Alcohol and Waltzing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Waltzing

Usually Perry doesn't drink this much. Usually Perry doesn't drink at all really, but for some reason tonight she has decided that a buzz is a little less than what she wants. Lafontaine watches her from where they're sitting on the bed, their own drink half-gone in their hands. It's always interesting when uptight rule-abiding Perry decides to break the rules. She lets her hair down, figuratively speaking, though she never goes too far. Even under the influence, Perry sticks to at least some rules.

So far the night has been made of a little whiskey and a lot of jokes. They never run out of things to talk about, though mostly their conversation has been focussed on the evil they'd just overthrown, and the slow way the weird was vanishing from campus. Perry stands up, pushing the desk chair back. She leaves her drink on the table when she crosses the room.

“When you were gone I was so upset,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking earnestly at Lafontaine. “I was so afraid that you'd be dead and think that I hated you.”

“I would never think that,” Lafontaine says. They lean forward to put a hand on Perry's shoulder.

“But I said all those awful things,” Perry says. Tears glisten at the corners of her eyes. “I didn't mean them. I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Lafontaine tells her gently. “I'm not upset with you.”

Perry leans in and puts her arms around Lafontaine, face buried in their neck. “I'm so glad,” she mumbles. Lafontaine returns her hug. The two of them sit like that for a moment before she pulls back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“What did you get up to while I was gone?” Lafontaine asks, trying to steer the conversation in a happier direction. “Besides defeating the big bad, I mean.”

“I spent a lot of the time on Laura's bed,” Perry says.

Lafontaine raises their eyebrows. “Oh really?”

“Not in _that_ way! I lay down after I got so upset. I thought they were hiding you or that it was a joke but it wasn't.”

Not all of this makes sense to Lafontaine, but they know that asking for clarification will just lead to more confusion. They make a mental note to ask about it again in the morning. Maybe once Perry's inevitable hangover is gone.

“I saw Laura and Carmilla dancing,” Perry says. “They thought I was sleeping but I wasn't and I saw them.”

“What type of dancing?” Lafontaine is having trouble picturing the scene. They'd never even thought about what Laura might look like dancing. Or if she did dance.

“Waltzing.” Perry smiles, eyes looking at something only she can see. “There was spinning and whirling. And they were so close.”

Lafontaine can't contain their grin. “Oh really?”

Perry looks at them, and Lafontaine's smile shrinks as they see that look in her eyes. That I-know-what-we-should-do look. The look that generally ends in community service. Or cleaning.

“We should dance!” She takes Lafontaine's hand in her own. “C'mon!”

Normally Lafontaine would be happy at this proposition, ecstatic even, but in Perry's current state they're not sure how wise it would be. “Maybe later, Perr, when you're a little more sober-”

“No, I want to dance now!” Perry is smiling, her curly red hair like a halo.

Lafontaine wavers. It's just a dance, they tell themself. It'll be okay. And it's better that they're there to keep an eye on her.

“Come dance with me!” She tugs on Lafontaine's hand, and Lafontaine finally gives up, putting their drink on the bookshelf beside their bed and standing.

“What about music?” Lafontaine asks.

“We don't need music!” Perry says as she moves to the center of the room. “It's distracting. I just wanna dance.”

Lafontaine laughs. “So how do we stand?” They know the answer, but Perry seems so excited to share this that they don't want to take any part of it away.

“Like this.” Perry puts one hand on their shoulder and raises their hand clasped in hers. “You put your hand on my back.”

Lafontaine reaches around and Perry steps closer. They've been close together before (all night cuddle dates and movie marathons) but there is something different about this. It feels as though something has changed since the Dean's defeat, and not just the Silas campus policies. Something personal, something between them and Perry.

They stand nose to nose for a long moment before Lafontaine says, “What now?”

“We step,” Perry steps sideways, leading even she's not, “here, and then here.” They're not quite waltzing, but it's close enough, and it's clear Perry is enjoying herself. “Now spin me!”

Obediently, Lafontaine lifts their arm, turns Perry underneath it. When she returns, she stops moving, lacing their fingers together. She's not smiling anymore. For a moment, Lafontaine is worried that something is wrong.

“I really like you,” Perry says finally.

“Gee thanks Perr,” Lafontaine replies.

“No of course I like you but I mean I _like_ like you.”

Lafontaine isn't entirely sure how to respond. This is not how they had imagined this happening.

“Can I kiss you?” Perry asks, stepping closer.

Lafontaine doesn't even entertain the idea. “Wait a minute Perr,” they say, putting their hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“What's the matter? Do you not want–”

“I do. It's not that.” Lafontaine thinks about how to phrase it. “It's that you're drunk, and I think we should talk about this tomorrow.”

Perry pouts. “I'm not  _that_ drunk.”

This time Lafontaine laughs out loud. “Saying that is always a sure sign of being drunk. I think it's time for bed.” They lead Perry down the hall to her room, tuck her safely in between her blankets. As they begin to leave, Perry catches their hand in hers again.

“We'll talk tomorrow?”

“We'll talk tomorrow,” Lafontaine says. They turn off the lights on their way out.

 

 

 

 


End file.
